


The Fixer

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Journalism, Fights, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation Interruptus, Omg that is the funniest tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-07-31 03:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20108791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: Nyx Ulric is a war correspondent for the Insomnian Associated Press, and a busy boss means he's sent to an unstable border zone. He's assigned a "tour guide" who's more of a bodyguard, and who's entirely too attractive for his own good.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raidelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raidelle/gifts).

Nyx finished packing up his paperwork into a worn leather bag and stepped across the bullpen to clap Libertus on the shoulder. 

“See you in a couple weeks.”

Libertus was hunched over his computer, typing furiously, and his eyes widened with surprise.

“Cor agreed to send you out? I’m impressed. Definitely thought he’d take this one himself.”

“Yeah, well, that article on the Duscae Resistance must have convinced him.” Nyx pushed in his chair and flicked off his monitor with a hearty amount of self- congratulation.

Libertus gave a feeble wave as Nyx sauntered off, and shook his head. Nyx shared that with Cor, always wanting to be where the action was. Libertus was happy to be behind a desk.

He tried to remind himself of that as the sound of dozens of clacking keyboards ate into his brain. Libertus sighed, shoved in earbuds, and watched as Nyx swung the frosted glass door to Cor’s office closed.

Cor looked up as Nyx stepped around the guest chair in his office, and Nyx sat when Cor gave a brief nod. He finished what he was typing and took off his glasses, setting them on the table and wiping a hand across tired eyes. Nyx wondered how much he’d been home or slept lately; the breaking news on the Tenebrae-Niflheim border had had them all working extra shifts and waking up in the middle of the night to check updates and draft short articles distilling the new facts as they wiped through the channels they had, trying to collect what were essentially smoke trails into some semblance of coherency.

Cor looked at Nyx skeptically. “You know, usually I’d be the one handling this assignment. You sure you’re up for it?”

“Absolutely. We have to get on the ground fast. Agence Tenebrae-Presse is pretty local, and I bet Cleigne News Agency is already there too. Come to think of it, I heard something on Cygillia from a foreign correspondent already too.” 

Nyx met Cor’s gaze with a steady one of his own. He’d been pulling rough hours lately, too, but he wanted Cor to see that that didn’t matter, that he could take anything these crazy news cycles could throw at him, that he was just getting started. Cor wanted IAP to get the news direct from the source as soon as possible, and Nyx knew it. Nyx also knew that the IAP board meeting with Citadel officials was tomorrow, and this was Nyx’s chance to spread his wings. “It worked out well when you trusted me with the Duscae conflict.”

Cor gave a sharp nod. “You’re a talented journalist, and you work hard. People like you; they open up to you. But this is a dangerous situation.”

Nyx grinned. “Come on, Cor, you know I grew up on the south side of—”

“This isn’t just some mean streets or a bad neighborhood, Nyx. This is a potential war zone. Charm doesn’t stop bullets.”

Nyx’s dimples faded, and he looked seriously at Cor. “I know the risk, and I accept it. You don’t need to worry about that. I'm a war correspondent—let me be one, okay? ”

“I’m not worried, I’m planning. You’ll have company.”

“Company? You sending Prompto to take photos again?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. You need someone who knows the area, someone who can get you in and out of tight spots, who knows the local customs.”

“A fixer?”

Cor nodded again. He’d settled the matter in his head, and Nyx could see him already thinking about what was happening with the Lestallum desk, or whether the board was going to give him shit about head count again. 

“He’ll meet you at the airport when you land.”

Nyx stood, and nodded. “Got it. And, Cor?”

Cor pulled his eyes away from pinging emails reluctantly.

“Thanks for trusting me with this one. I won’t let you down.”

“You better not.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was a medium-length flight to Tenebrae, and Nyx had planned to read through all the background he had on the area during the three or so hours in the air. But the changing air pressure and his sleep deprivation got the best of him, and he passed out cold until the jolt of landing gear hitting the tarmac woke him up again. 

Tenebrae was cold, and Nyx dug out his hoodie as the cool air gusted through the cabin. He grabbed a small duffel bag and made his slow way out with the rest of the passengers, running a hand through his probably-rumpled hair and yawning.

Once off the plane, Nyx looked around. He started walking toward the line of chauffeur types holding signs with names on them, until he heard his own from behind a newspaper.

“Ulric, yes?”

Nyx stopped and looked at a long pair of legs crossed under the pink-tinged pages of one of the international newspapers. The paper curled down, and the glint of glasses greeted him before cool green eyes.

The man stood up, and said “I believe you’re my assignment.”

_Damn. _Nyx was a little taken aback; he’d been expecting a gruff, square bodyguard type based on Cor’s description, not a lean, lithe man who looked more like a fashion model, with legs all the way to— 

Nyx cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. “Nyx Ulric. Good to meet you.”

A leather-gloved hand squeezed his own, cordially, and keen green eyes met his own over silver-rimmed glasses. “Ignis Scientia. Shall we?”

Nyx nodded and followed. He continued to assess the man leading the way to the airport parking lot. They were roughly the same height, but Ignis looked taller because of the sandy strands of upswept pompadour he wore. He had an impeccably pretty posture about him, and was dressed much more stylishly than Nyx had expected. He looked… the word that popped into Nyx’s head was _fun_, and he laughed at himself. He’d rather take this guy dancing than work with him probably, but Nyx had always been fine mixing business with pleasure, and even he realized that he was getting pretty far ahead of himself here. His thoughts were interrupted by a curious look from Ignis.

“Have you been to Tenebrae before?” 

His accent sounded local, and Nyx nodded. “Once or twice. Just Ulwaat, though; not the Niflheim border. You sound like you know your way around, though.”

“Do I?” An amused smirk danced around Ignis’ lips. When he spoke again, it was with a flawless Central Insomnian accent. “I’m surprised to hear you say that.”

Nyx laughed. “Wow, nice. Can you do Niflheim?”

Ignis wrinkled his nose, and the clipped Tenebraean tones were back. “Yes, but I’d rather not.”

Another cackle escaped Nyx as he followed Ignis out to the parking lot. Ignis unlocked the car and put his hand on the door, but frowned a little when he saw Nyx doing the same. “Usually, my charges ride in the back. Easier to keep track of you that way.”

Nyx just rolled his eyes and opened the passenger side door. “Yeah, well, that’s weird and overly formal, and not the way I roll. Besides, I’m a decent navigator.”

Ignis’ brow furrowed in annoyance. “If I couldn’t navigate myself, I wouldn’t be here. I’m supposed to be your protection, and…” He made an exasperated face when Nyx just buckled his seatbelt anyway.

Nyx clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in the seat as they pulled out of the parking space.

"And what, exactly, are you supposed to be protecting me from?" Nyx shot him a grin.

"Yourself, if you're lucky." His inflection was sharp and disinterested, and Nyx scowled. It wasn't often that his usual charm failed, and it was annoying.

Once they were free of the small roads around the airport, Ignis pulled onto the highway and started driving like a bat out of hell. Nyx pretended not to notice, even feigning a bit of a nap as the speed pushed him back into the leather seat. He wondered if Ignis was irritated with him for not following instructions, or if he just always drove like this. Nyx found the second option to be more fun to think about, even if his ass didn’t unclench the rest of the way to the border.

“The Niflheim checkpoint is just a few miles from here. We’ll stop here for the night.”

Ignis slid the car smoothly into a spot in a nondescript box of a motel. Cor had told Nyx that Ignis wasn’t just muscle, though Nyx wondered about that, watching a lean stretch of exposed forearm flex under a rolled-up shirtsleeve as Ignis shifted the car into park. The driving gloves were a nice touch, too, Nyx mused.

Anyway. Ignis’ main function, other than trying to help Nyx avoid getting captured or killed, was to translate when necessary, guide Nyx through some of the more complicated areas of the border town, and use local knowledge to try to get Nyx access where otherwise the Insomnian Associated Press might not be able to do so.

He was conversing with the clerk in the odd Niflheim-Tenebrae dialect that had sprung up in these areas during the occupation, and just quirked an eyebrow sideways at Nyx when he stared, followed by the smallest bend to the corner of his mouth. Nyx grinned and shook his head. This guy was interesting. 

One threadbare room, two uncomfortable-looking beds. Nyx put his duffel bag in the corner and sighed. Despite his flight nap, he was pretty tired. 

“I’m gonna hit that convenience store across the street. Could use a beer, if I’m honest. You want anything?”

Ignis sighed quietly and stood up. “Thank you, but I don’t drink on assignment. I’m ready when you are.”

Nyx peered at him. “It’s cool; I promise you I’m a big boy and I’ll look both ways. It’s just across the street.” He pointed vaguely, confused.

“There are,” Ignis laid his jacket over a chair, “a few basic rules to this arrangement. One is that we do not, under any circumstances, get separated. Where you go, I go, and vice versa. You stay with me, I stay with you.”

They’d already moved toward the door, and Ignis closed it behind him while he continued talking. “Two, if I make it clear that you are to get yourself away from wherever we are, you get the hell out of there and do not ask questions or make it a debate.” His eyebrows raised as he looked over at Nyx, waiting for acknowledgement.

Nyx grinned, nodded, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Is there a three?”

Ignis pressed his lips together, visibly trying and failing to look irritated. Nyx's grin widened; maybe the charm was working better than he thought. 

“Three was supposed to be you staying in the back seat, but you’ve already flouted that one, I suppose.”

They made their way over to the small store and gathered a few things. Nyx wasn’t quite sure, but he thought maybe he caught Ignis checking out his butt on the way back. 

Ignis had picked up some canned coffee, and Nyx had found a sylleblossom lager that looked interesting. They side-eyed each other’s beverages with similar gazes of apprehension, and then amusement when they noticed each other.

The two of them chatted together amiably when they got back, sitting in threadbare chairs and listening to the radio to get a status on the local situation. After a little while, Nyx felt his head droop and slide off the hand he’d propped it on, and suddenly there was a broad, Galahdian-accented phrase coming from the man across from him.

“Get yourself to bed, before you sleep in the chair, then.”

He let out a tired laugh. “That’s pretty good, honestly. Not sure you’d pass muster in the middle of Janto, but pretty good.”

Ignis inclined his head in acknowledgement and turned off the light.

They carefully avoided looking at each other in the darkened hotel room as they got undressed. Nyx felt the rough surface of the cheap sheets scratch against his skin and wondered what the next day would hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incorporates the prompt "stay with me" from Ignyx Week for 8/4.


	3. Chapter 3

The trip to the border was uneventful; a light rain misted off and on, but that was all. Nyx watched the smooth, maintained highway give way to potholes and scruffy, untended vegetation off the shoulder. The checkpoint had been there for years; it had been a Customs and Immigration border crossing, and still looked it, despite Niflheim’s arguments that Tenebrae was now under its thumb. The level of suspicion and the sheer number of guns were intimidating, though.

The border guard eyed Ignis closely, and Nyx noticed that he played it straight ahead, no funny accents or crafty bullshit. Nyx felt the guard’s gaze linger on the swinging beaded braids in his hair and close-shaved sides and stopped himself from scowling; it wasn’t a kind gaze, and Nyx thought sourly that this was honestly no worse than some of the folks back in Insomnia being jerks to people they perceived as “outsiders.”

Ignis continued to drive without speaking as Nyx mentally rehashed the last time some asshole had told him to “go back to Galahd” despite the fact that he’d been a byline in their damn city for a decade and a half. Ignis looked down at Nyx’s clenched fist without commenting on it, but the acknowledgement made Nyx relax a little.

“Parochialism has always mystified me with its small-mindedness, honestly.”

Nyx’s head jerked away from staring out the window. “Yeah? Folks where you’re from probably have their own brand of it, hey?”

“I’m not really ‘from’ anywhere; my family was military.”

Nyx nodded in acknowledgement. Explained why the guy could basically fit in anywhere.

“The guards won’t be nearly so...nice,” Ignis laughed, “when we come _ back _through the checkpoint, so be warned.”

Nyx gave a wry smirk and started fishing through his notes to get ready. Stop one was with a local news reporter, he knew that. The rain had mostly abated, and just a few puddles remained on the concrete as Ignis pulled up to a nondescript gray concrete apartment building. The reporter met them in the lobby, but led them outside to some tables near a cafe to talk.

She was matter-of-fact, but the dark shadows under her eyes told Nyx how deeply the unrest in her home was affecting her. He was as calm, encouraging, and grateful as he knew how to be, and at one point he noticed Ignis watching him thoughtfully.

The local reporter and Ignis’ contacts gave Nyx quite a few more leads for interviews, and the day started to fly by. A couple who’d met in one of the relocation camps; one from Niflheim, one from Tenebrae. A group of schoolchildren talking about the cobbled-together instruction they were still somehow getting from a group of volunteers and parents. A Tenebraean contractor who’d accidentally gotten stopped on the wrong side of the border, and the lawyer who’d traveled to Insomnia and back to get him out. 

Their stories, their lives, their emotions poured out of them. Nyx was in his element, and Ignis was mostly silent and watchful. Nyx had his hands full trying to process everything and still get enough notes down to make sense of it all. The rain started up again, right around the time Nyx found himself shedding a few tears as he squeezed a young parent’s hand. Appropriate. He gave a smirk toward the sky in acknowledgement as he took a moment to collect himself and make notes. Ignis sat a short distance away, alert but with hands folded, and something about his posture told Nyx he was affected by these stories too. 

“You know, you’re quite different.” Ignis, draped gracefully in another awful hotel chair, looked at Nyx over his customary evening can of coffee. Nyx had no idea how he slept after that, but he just gave a short laugh.

“So they tell me. I thought I stuck out like a sore thumb in Insomnia, but I’ve _ definitely _got outsider status around here.” He sipped what had looked like an herbal tea when he picked it up; it wasn’t bad, but the flavors were a little unexpected.

Ignis’ eyes widened, and then he looked a little sheepish. “No, no that’s not what I meant at all.” He waved his hand. “I do this a lot, you know, and I’ve seen a lot of reporters come and go and do their thing. You’re different.”

Nyx took a sip. The honey-almond flavor of the tea was growing on him, even with the strange floral background. “Different-good, I hope.’

Ignis laughed. “Yes, good. You’re very caring; very engaged. A lot of reporters put...distance between themselves and their subjects. They care, of course, but you seem to feel their stories right along with them.” Ignis tilted his head in a gaze that seemed to carry respect.

“Yeah, my boss says that’s gonna get me in trouble one of these days. But I don’t know how to play it any other way.” Nyx shrugged, a little self-consciously, and pulled out a small notebook computer to start summarizing the day’s notes and audio.

Ignis stood up and stretched, moving over to his side of their room. They’d developed a certain rhythm over the last few days. Nyx would stay up late, hunched over his computer and typing. Ignis would sleep early; Nyx’s light never seemed to bother him. Whenever Nyx woke, he’d find Ignis showered, dressed, and waiting for him. He wondered how early the guy got up. 

Nyx stuffed in headphones and nodded at Ignis as he started his usual nightly yoga-stretch-whatever it was routine. He tried hard to focus on his notes and not stare, but man, the guy certainly did have some long legs on him. Nyx didn’t really relax until Ignis had tucked himself into bed and long, deep breaths pulled in quietly from the other side of the room.

The days passed quickly, and Ignis proved to be indispensable, not just as muscle, but in greasing the wheels of the society and information channels in an unfamiliar region. They took a few day trips out to talk to folks, and during one particularly long drive on the way back, Nyx brought up the accent thing.

“Why’d you learn to do it? Don’t get me wrong, you do great. Just, is it part of your job, or…?” He really was curious; wondered if Ignis had been studying to be an actor or something.

Ignis blushed and studiedly kept his gaze on the road. “No one’s asked me that in quite a while.” He paused, gaze flicking at the horizon and into the mirrors, but still carefully avoiding Nyx; he seemed a little embarrassed. “I told you that my family was military, yes?”

“Yeah.” Nyx would have just nodded, but Ignis didn’t seem willing to look at him. He felt a little bad that he’d asked, but figured Ignis would have just tossed him a clever deflection if he really hadn’t wanted to answer.

“It’s difficult, being a child in that environment. I very much wanted to fit in, so I tried to adopt the local accent as quickly as I could in every place we lived.” His flush deepened a little, and he turned his head over his shoulder quickly to change lanes.

“After that, it became entertaining; a party trick of sorts. It just happened to prove useful when I fell into this line of work.”

Nyx nodded. He’d moved to Insomnia as an adult, but he could relate to the feeling of wanting to shed the outsider status. He was grateful for Little Galahd and his friends who understood the old traditions, and he felt a pang in his chest realizing Ignis probably didn’t even have that—a little slice of something that could feel like home, like he belonged. He wondered if Ignis had anyone, any person who made him feel like that. He didn’t seem to.

Ignis cleared his throat as they pulled into the parking lot. “You’ve made a shambles of my rules, so let’s say we throw one more to the winds, shall we?” He nodded at the tiny pub whose concrete lot butted up to the hotel’s.

Nyx grinned. “You would definitely not be the first person to tell me I encourage rule-breaking behavior.” He leaned over and winked, and the face Ignis made as the smile stole over his face was priceless. Nyx thought he’d make it his personal mission that night to get those emerald eyes to sparkle at him as often as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uses prompt "rain" for 8/5 of Ignyx Week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brings this fic up to an E rating (oops, my hand slipped) so mind your tags. Also, I need one more chapter, so this will go to five.

Nyx had been both disappointed and not by their trip to the bar. As usual, Ignis had been all business and entertained precisely two drinks before shuffling them out of the bar and back to the room. But he’d been looser, more relaxed than Nyx had seen yet over the last week and a half, and it had been fun. Really fun. He regretted the thought that their time together was coming to an end relatively soon, pondering the easy, open lean of Ignis’ torso against the back of his chair and the peal of laughter Nyx had pulled from him over the course of the night.

Nyx rubbed his eyes and rolled over. He'd found out recently that Ignis usually got up and went running or did some other kind of workout in the morning, and when Nyx's lazy, desk-coddled ass had been up to it, he’d gone along with him sometimes. The other bed was empty, so Ignis was clearly out and about. Nyx shuffled to the bathroom in a haze of sleep and swung the door open without knocking.

_Oops_.

Nyx was fully shocked awake by the scene that greeted him inside. 

It was Ignis. And he was naked. Well, not quite naked. In the three heartbeats it took Nyx to unfreeze, he realized three things. 

One: Ignis did, in fact, grow a little scruff overnight. Nyx had wondered about that. 

Two: the light from the tiny window near the ceiling was really exceptional this early in the morning.

Three: in the time Nyx had registered the other two things, Ignis had grunted and come all over his own hand, attempting to turn away but failing, graceful even in his shock and embarrassment. 

Nyx gasped and flung the door shut again. He stalked back to his bed, sat down, and ran his hands through his hair. 

Astrals alive, the man had looked amazing. So yeah, Nyx had noticed he was hot. But shit, there was no way he was going to be able to stop daydreaming about his impossibly sexy bodyguard now. Fixer. Whatever. Nyx’s throbbing boner didn’t much care for fine distinctions at that particular moment. He waited awkwardly as he heard the shower start, then stop again. 

After a few minutes that felt like hours, Ignis emerged fully dressed, sharp lines in place, clean-shaven, hair styled. Nyx jumped up from the bed where he'd sat and squirmed. He looked up sheepishly. 

"Shit, sorry man." 

"Quite all right." Ignis had control of his voice, as usual, but his ears were flaming pink. 

The short scruff along Ignis’ jaw he'd seen earlier was burned into Nyx's brain, along with the fine dusting of hair along his chest. Nyx tried not to think about it, but his traitorous horny brain kept wondering how that slight beard would feel scraping against Nyx's thighs, or how that chest would feel under his roving hands. 

Ignis left the room, muttering something about coffee, and Nyx took a shower quickly and a little guiltily. Not too quickly or guiltily to prevent a fast, hard wank of his own, though. The picture of Ignis leaned back against the plaster wall, shirt open, briefs pulled down, was unforgettable, despite Nyx's quick retreat. Even his forearms had been sexy, Nyx thought, as he jerked and cursed. 

Damn. _ Damn_. As Nyx rested one hand on the shower wall, recovering, he couldn't stop imagining that wry, expressive mouth pressed against his own, or those sculpted lips caressing Nyx's cock. 

Well, he was sure _ this _ broke all kinds of rules. Nothing to do today but steer directly into the waves, no matter how embarrassing _ that _might be. 

They fell into their usual routine with only a little bit of lingering awkwardness; Ignis seemed more jittery than usual, but that could easily have been the four cans of coffee he’d drunk by noon. 

Nyx was struggling himself; he felt like today’s problems were unrelated to their little hotel room incident, though. People just didn’t seem to want to open up. The local reporter had assured him that these five folks all had interesting stories to tell, but they all kept looking over their shoulders and trailing off before they could describe anything really useful.

Zero for three, and Nyx closed his notebook with a sigh. He sat back and tried just talking casually to the next person, but she was skittish too. Kept talking about information she had about her employer, and ties to the Niflheim elite. But then she made a bunch of comments about an elderly grandmother close to the border that she wanted to move, but lacked the funds.

They were some of the broadest hints for a bribe Nyx had seen, and he was about seventy percent certain that there was no grandma at all. Still, he played sympathetic to see if there was anything worth discussing.

Ignis, who didn’t usually interfere, leaned forward and touched his elbow. Nyx’s eyebrows went up, and Ignis motioned him a little way away. Nyx followed, keeping an eye on the potential source.

“You know, we do have funds for...incidentals, if that’s something that’s needed.” Ignis’s face was impassive; he could easily have been discussing the weather on their drive back.

Nyx just laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. Not how I do business, but thanks.” He’d rather strike out than bribe a source, and giving someone money for information about her own employer that she wasn’t supposed to disclose—it cut too close for his personal tastes.

He went back to the table, struck out as predicted, and thanked the woman for her time. Once she left, Ignis sat down next to him. 

“So you do have rules.”

Nyx made a waffling noise. “Eh, more like a gut feeling. Standards, more like.”

“Indeed.” Ignis retreated again with a sly, teasing grin.

The last interview of the day was with a young man who’d said he was with the local anti-Niflheim resistance force. Nyx whipped out his phone to record, but the man held up a hand, looking fearful. Fair enough. He could do it the old-fashioned way. As he was pulling out his notebook and pen, the man shook his head, hard.

“Not here. Someone might hear. Meet me after dark. Over there.” He pointed toward a deserted alleyway across the street.

Nyx nodded. “Okay,” he said, ignoring the sharp look Ignis shot him.

After the man walked away, Ignis muttered, “This smells wrong.”

Nyx chewed his thumbnail thoughtfully. “Maybe. Kind of. But no one’s gotten good information from one of the Resistance before. This would be huge.”

Ignis sighed. “You’re impossible, do you know that?”

They headed back to the car to wait for nightfall, and Ignis drew out a pair of daggers, wiping them down carefully before stashing them cleverly on his person. Nyx blinked, and they were completely imperceptible somehow. 

He pulled out another pair of blades. “Do you know how to use these?” They were mismatched, and familiar: one curved, one straight.

“I wouldn’t be a good Galahdian punk if I didn’t. My grandmother would never forgive me. Also, _ where _are you keeping all this?”

Ignis just handed the blades over with a small smirk. “Just be ready if need be, all right?”

“You got it.” Nyx tried to pretend he’d been kicking ass professionally for the last ten years, not sitting at a desk typing words and getting into the occasional ill-advised bar fight.

The rain intensified as the sun set over the jagged tops of buildings and the distant mountain peaks beyond. Nyx felt apprehension build in his chest, but just pulled up his collar and waited under the overhang near the alley that was their appointed meeting place. Ignis paced behind him, and Nyx noticed how quiet it was; the scrape of Ignis’ bootheels was audible. The usual busy traffic and bustling sounds of the town had subsided.

They’d been here since before sundown; it was completely dark now, and no one seemed to have come into or gone out of the alley. If Nyx wanted the story, he’d better head in. He looked at Ignis, who sighed and nodded, motioning for Nyx to stay behind him down the darkened dead-end.

The moment his eyes adjusted to the dark at the end of the alleyway, Nyx’s gut twisted in guilt and horror. That was their contact all right, but he was slumped against a wall, eye blackened and closed. Gods, was the guy even alive? He took a couple tentative steps forward, sickened by the idea that this guy had gotten beaten or worse for trying to give Nyx information.

He spent too much time looking at the victim and not enough time looking for the perpetrators, and suddenly Nyx felt rough brick slam into his cheek.

It had been Ignis, not the glowering thug, who had pushed him. Silvery daggers gleamed in the dim light, and a quiet voice sounded in front of Nyx.

“Now, now. We certainly don’t want any trouble here. Why don’t you just be on your way?”

The words were so simple; they could have been said kindly to a stray dog or a small child, but the tone Ignis injected into them was a cold-steel threat, and Nyx felt a shiver run down his spine.

Three hulking figures closed in on them, and Nyx turned to see if there was an escape route. Of course not. He felt his heart race, and tensed in anticipation. Ignis, behind him, dropped into a crouch.

Two things happened faster than Nyx could process. First, the seemingly passed-out guy in front of him leapt up and threw a punch, which Nyx dodged but barely; he felt it graze his cheekbone and hissed at the sting. Second, he felt his own skull connect with the one behind him, hard. He hadn’t had his bell rung in a long time, and he felt his vision blur. 

The sound of a body collapsing to the cobblestone behind Nyx mingled with the sound of running feet, and Nyx blinked and staggered. 

“Shit, they’ve got knives. Let’s go get Ulldor and finish these bastards!” The men ran, tossing taunts back at them. 

They needed to leave, and now. And his bodyguard was—Nyx turned around to see a gangly pile of hopefully just unconscious limbs behind him. Well, Nyx _ did _know how to run from a street fight. 

He smiled ruefully and slung Ignis over his shoulder. He was heavier than he looked, or Nyx had just forgotten how much heavier a passed-out body could be. He half-trotted, half-loped the ten or so blocks to their hotel, paranoid and damp, twitching at every wind-blown piece of trash and passing car. 

Nyx deposited Ignis on the bed and immediately went to lock the door behind them. He leaned against it and sighed for a moment, letting his heart rate slow. Damn, he had misjudged the _ shit _ out of that. 

Nyx was really hoping for a good, strong, “I told you so” in that pretty accent. But Ignis was still out cold and just continued to breathe heavily. Nyx tapped his shoulder lightly and said his name a couple of times, but nothing.

Awkward, face flaming, Nyx relieved Ignis of most of his damp clothes; somehow peeling off the ever-present driving gloves was almost more intimate than their awkward little encounter this morning. Well, maybe not. Nyx let out a sigh and pulled the comforter over Ignis before retreating to the bathroom for a moment.

Nyx got a look at himself in the mirror and gave his reflection a mocking smile and a shake of the head. _ Dumbass_. Bloodied cheek, and maybe a shiner, maybe not; it had been a hell of a night. He splashed water over his face and left.

Ignis’ head had fallen to the side, and his glasses were pushed askew. He looked a lot younger at rest, his face peaceful, and Nyx looked at him for a brief moment before sliding off the silver frames and folding them on the nightstand. 

Nyx lay down, folded his arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling, wondering what kind of background would lead someone to put themselves at constant risk for strangers.

He woke up a couple times and checked on Ignis, and at one point he’d curled up on his side, clutching an extra pillow. That seemed more like normal sleep than the absent, floppy, unconscious body he’d dragged back, and Nyx felt a little of the tension bleed out of his own muscles, enough to drift off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This belated contribution to Ignyx Week continues! For this chapter I used the prompts "meet me after dark" and hurt/comfort. One more chapter to go! Thank you for reading. <3


	5. Chapter 5

“You know, I was told you were hard-headed, but this is taking it a bit literally.”

Nyx turned from staring out the window to see Ignis start to sit up, only to wince and clutch his head in his hands.

“Hey, you were setting such a good example, thought I’d step in as the bodyguard for a sec.” Okay, that was way overstating things, but Nyx figured Ignis probably knew that.

“You’re an idiot. An untrained, reckless piece of arrogance. I don’t know what you were thinking meeting up with that man, or _ if _ you were thinking at all, but—” Ignis cut himself off as he sat up finally and groaned, grasping his forehead.

“Just trying to do my job, Iggy. Can I call you Iggy?” Nyx grinned and handed him some aspirin.

Ignis scowled as he accepted the tablets. “No.” His tone was stern, but then his lips curved in amusement, and he tossed the pills back before Nyx could get him a glass of water.

“I must say, I feel a bit of a failure.” Ignis prodded his head again gingerly. “Not very effective protection, having to be dragged like a sack of potatoes from a dangerous situation.”

“I got your back too, Ignis. Okay?”

He laughed and shook his head, but his lips curved. “Did you even think to use the daggers?”

A loud guffaw escaped Nyx. “No, they cracked our heads together before I could try anything. I do still have them, though. Carried them and you out of there...about three seconds after shit went down, actually. They gave me an opening and I took it.” He gestured to his duffel bag, where he’d deposited the weapons after wiping them dry, waiting for Ignis to wake up.

Sheets pooled around Ignis' waist, and Nyx very carefully avoided staring at his bared chest. 

Ignis sighed. “That was quick thinking, getting us out of there. I do appreciate it.”

“Hey, you’re the one who told me we were supposed to stick together. Rule two, right?”

“Pardon?”

“You told me that if you made it clear we needed to get the hell out of somewhere, I should book it and not ask questions. I figured being unconscious was making it pretty clear.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Not like I could have asked you questions anyway.” Nyx chewed on a donut he’d retrieved from the coffee shop downstairs.

“Seriously.”

"You want a donut?" Mouth full, Nyx held his bear claw out. 

Ignis made a nauseated face. 

"Just kidding, I picked up one of those bran things you eat."

Ignis chuckled and accepted the breakfast gratefully. 

Nyx logged into his email and there were about a dozen messages marked urgent. He'd sent the home office a quick report of what had happened and a reassurance that they were both fine. Cor's protective instincts appeared to have kicked in though, and he'd launched all the usual protocols. 

Nyx looked up from the screen and took a sip of coffee. Ignis was scrolling his phone, a look of surprise and amusement on his face. Besides looking slightly battered, he looked casual and relaxed: half-dressed was a good look on him. Nyx thought he was being nonchalant about staring, but he caught a keen green gaze watching him the next time he peeked.

"Looks like you've become a story yourself."

"_We _ have. Coernix News wants to talk to you, too."

"I prefer to stay out of the limelight myself, so if you can handle it, I'd be truly grateful." Ignis took a sip of coffee, his eyes closed as the steam wafted over his face. 

"Sure, yeah. Makes sense, for your line of work. Also, I've got instructions to head directly to—" 

"Your embassy, yes." Ignis nodded and poked his phone again. "A short trip."

"Yeah, apparently we can meet up with the CN reporter downtown and then head to the embassy." 

Ignis looked at him with a small amount of skepticism, and Nyx flashed a dimpled grin. 

"This is my boss setting this up. I promise Cor's got better instincts than I do about legit leads." 

Ignis muttered under his breath, "Not a high bar, that," but he was smiling. 

It wasn't just CN, as it turned out. Duscae News Service, Agence Tenebrae-Presse, and Cleigne News Agency had shown up too, and unsurprisingly Al-Galahd showed a particular amount of interest in interviewing Nyx. He enjoyed the process more than he thought he would, deftly maneuvering each reporter out of making Nyx the story and talking about the people in the conflict zone instead. Once or twice, Nyx caught Ignis studying him with a look that was hard to read. When Nyx caught his eye, he got a legitimate grin out of Ignis before his gaze darted away.

Nyx did his best to stay objective and avoid blaming the resistance forces or saying anything to the other reporters that might spark further unrest in the border area. He enjoyed a couple of in-jokes with the Al-Galahd correspondent, and before he knew it, it was time to be on their way. 

They both lingered in the car, parked in a hotel's underground lot, for longer than they needed to before taking off. Ignis fidgeted uncharacteristically with some of the controls.

Nyx leaned over the center console. “Can I ask you something?”

Ignis looked at him, questioning. The light glinted off the silver frame of his glasses and temporarily obscured part of his expression, so Nyx just took a breath and went for it. He cupped Ignis’ jaw gently and planted a light kiss on those gorgeous lips, letting the now-familiar scent of Ignis’ cologne drift into his nose. 

A low chuckle vibrated against Nyx’s lips by way of answer.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Ignis murmured around the kiss, as he slid leather-clad fingers into Nyx’s hair to pull him closer. 

Nyx was late getting back to the Insomnian embassy. Three hours late, as it happened. 

Fortunately, the privacy tinting on the windows of Ignis’ car had hidden the conflagration inside. The number typed into Nyx’s phone, though, by graceful fingers finally stripped bare; the intense, breathless look through strands of hair pulled down from their usual elegant style; and Ignis’ lack of any remaining artifice in those last pink-cheeked looks of wonder assured Nyx that this particular fire wasn’t one that would be burning out anytime soon.

* * *

Weeks later, Nyx was lamenting the fact that he hadn’t had a response text since yesterday. It wasn’t like he expected one every _ day _(it absolutely was), but they'd struck up a regular banter, and he missed hearing from his former bodyguard. Fixer. Whatever. Boyfriend?

A pretty, lilting voice surprised him out of his thoughts. 

“Think you can show an out-of-towner where to find a decent drink?”

“Oh hell, Ignis. Warn a guy!” Nyx laughed and jumped up to wipe the soda he’d spilled. 

"Sylleblossom lager, perhaps? Since I am officially off-duty and all. As of….now." 

Nyx let himself be pulled into an embrace, ignoring the wide eyeballs peeking out from behind Lib's monitor, and nodded. "I know just the place." 

This time the kiss Nyx got was lingering, teasing, and filled with anticipation. Ignis laughed into his lips before swiveling around, throwing a mischievous look over his shoulder with a flawless Insomnian accent. 

"Lead the way." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incorporates "I got your back" from the Ignyx Week prompts. Thank you for following this little fic and I hope you enjoyed it! Comments and kudos power me to make more nonsense like this.


End file.
